


Pas de trois

by Oshun



Category: Swordspoint - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/pseuds/Oshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after Richard's trial at the end of the novel Swordspoint. Richard and Alec meet an attractive young man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pas de trois

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thevina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thevina/gifts).



§ § § § § § §

The overheated drawing room rapidly filled with the elite of the elite of the Hill: the men clad in their perfectly tailored fitted trousers, immaculate linen and lace spilling out of neck and sleeve; the women over decorated, coiffed and perfumed within an inch of their lives. Richard no longer enjoyed such gatherings, hating being observed and gossiped about. But ever since Lord Horn's death, Alec's triumph at his trial, and Lord Ferris's effective banishment, he and Alec had become the focus of all eyes, wherever they were, whether in Riverside or on the Hill.

Richard did, however, appreciate the opportunity to look around and take the measure of individuals within that self-important crowd, watching them as his mother had observed wild animals, studying their needs, their behaviors, their dominance displays. He thought of his observations as a form of professional assessment, a means of determining who among them might be paramount in wealth or worthy of note for their other forms of wielding power in the City. It amused him to ponder how these interactions might result in some challenging, or at the very least interesting, possible future contracts for him

A heavyset middle-aged woman, wearing an unfortunate amethyst satin turban, pushed a whey-faced daughter in front of her, glaring briefly at Richard before addressing herself to Alec. Richard couldn't bear to watch Alec's response. The beady-eyed peacock of a woman doubtless deserved whatever acid-tinged lack of cordiality that Alec might serve up for her, but surely her daughter was an innocent victim still. Now that Alec was known to the citizens of the Hill as Lord David Alexander Tielman Campion, Richard would almost certainly be considered by all the mamas of the precious unmarried daughters of the hillside parlors as a poacher on their private game reserve. Alec might be dangerous and ill-mannered, and known to like or even prefer the harsher sex, but he also was a potential heir to the richest duchy in the land.

Richard still didn't know why Alec had chosen to accept this particular invitation, when he had rejected every other one they had received in the past several weeks, all of which were more appropriate. He didn't mind though. It was interesting to watch these people. Alec was right. They were not to be trusted. Not nice. Nothing like Alec. Well, Alec wasn't nice either, was he?

Of course, their host that night was nearly as fascinating at the moment to the gathered aristocracy of the City as the notorious swordsman and his noble lover. Entering the room from an interior passageway, the newly appointed Lord Horn instantly captured the attention of all present. He wore a bright blue velvet jacket, over a vest of paler blue brocade, the frothy white lace at his neck setting off his clear high complexion--cheeks glowing pink through a light suntan enhanced his handsome features. His eyes were bluer than Richard's own which Alec always professed to find so attractive.

Richard glanced at Alec for his reaction to the newest addition to the cream of Hill society. Alec elbowed Richard in response and cocked his head to one side. "They say the recently deceased Lord Horn was exceedingly handsome in his day."

The new Lord Horn, barely more than a child, with his angel's face that contrasted oddly with the stammering insecurity of his initial greetings to his peers, crossed the room toward Richard, stopping to acknowledge his guests along the line of his progress. Richard remembered the self-conscious arrogance of the previous Lord Horn, held onto long past the legendary heyday of his own period as one of the reigning beauties of the Hill. Masculine beauty must indeed be part of the Horn legacy. The young Lord Horn fixed his sight upon Richard as though he intended to speak to him.

Before Richard had a chance to look away the lad dipped his head in a quick but regal nod, indicating respect toward one whom he does not consider his equal, but to whom he wants to extend a courteous greeting.

"Master St Vier," he said. A glint of humor in the lad's cobalt eyes, winning a contest over the hitch in his voice, indicated to Richard that he had already bested his uncle in raw intelligence. And his glance, so warm, held just a second longer than necessary. Could it possibly be that the pretty little lordling was actually flirting with him?

"At your service, my lord." Richard bowed deeply. He felt no remorse for cutting short the former Lord Horn's miserable existence, but neither did he wish to quarrel with his heir.

The young man took a deep breath. "I, I asked you here to show that I bear neither of you any ill will for what passed between either you or Lord David and my late uncle," he said.

Alec's woody seductive chypre scent wafted down upon Richard from behind.

"Much appreciated," Alec interjected in his characteristic drawl, with its vowels all rounded and sensual and the consonants unexpectedly sharp. "We won't hold your uncle's tiresome stupidity against you, either."

Lord Horn, a rabbit mesmerized by a cobra, watched Alec. There was something, some unmistakable frisson of tension in the air, like the scent of electricity before a storm. The impatient twitch in Alec's cheek, brought the young noble quickly back to himself. He bowed stiffly, then almost seemed to scurry away, ostensibly to greet a late-arriving guest.

"Had enough yet, Richard?" Alec whispered, his breath warm against Richard's ear. "You weren't seriously considering that inexperienced puppy, were you?"

"Hmm," answered Richard, inhaling that so familiar alluring scent while grabbing Alec's wrist hard. "Seriously, Alec? I'm flattered. But no!" He relished watching Alec's response to his touch, the rosy suffusion starting at the high razor-sharp cheekbones and flushing downward until it had overtaken his entire face. "What's the alternative?" Richard asked.

"Home and bed." Alec formed a sinful, open-lipped half smile.

"I'd never turn that down," said Richard, biting his lower lip.

Alec's face turned redder still. "Well, then," he said. "Let's go. There is nothing here for us."

As they left, young Lord Horn watched from the shadows, fascination and hunger in his eyes. The rumors he'd heard about his uncle's base desires had been incomprehensible, but now, finally, he felt himself beginning to understand.


End file.
